


someone to stay

by lovely__bensolo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Single Parents, Slow Burn, Substance Abuse, dad ben solo!, i need more modern reylo in my life, modern reylo, mom rey!, probably gonna add more tags?, reylo au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely__bensolo/pseuds/lovely__bensolo
Summary: "You don't know me."He looked pained. As if she had poured a gallon of salt into an open wound."You like to pretend you do. I'm sure it helps you sleep at night. It feeds your ego knowing you played a part in my recovery," hot tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. "But I'm sorry to break it to you Ben Solo but you didn't. You didn't do shit."Her voice cracked.She hated crying.But she hated him more.---Rey Niima is many things: A Mother, waitress, photographer, and an alcoholic.After being charged with public intoxication, Rey is forced to finally confront her addiction head on or she could lose everything. Putting her pride aside, she attends a support group for those who also find comfort at the bottom of a bottle. However, her sobriety is deemed a walk in the park in comparison to the brooding facilitator.Ben Solo.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	someone to stay

Rey considered herself an optimist. 

You would think with everything she had been through that wouldn't be the case. But, she is the textbook definition of 'glass half full.' 

This was different.

She couldn't find a single light at the end of this despicable tunnel. 

For whatever reason they decided to keep the community center at a just below freezing, the gymnasium reeked of chemicals as if they had scrubbed it clean only moments before their arrival, the facilitator was running late which meant their meeting would last longer than anticipated ... which was more money out of her pocket for the sitter, and finally everyone was far too happy. They fluttered about exchanging small talk and celebrating their milestones before group had even begun. One month, seven months, two years. Her stomach was in knots. 

Rey was leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the obvious glances. This was her first time attending any sort of support group. Well, she did attend a few birthing classes but that didn't count. Come to think about it, she would much rather give birth all over again than sit in a circle and talk about her problems. She had a feeling she was the hot topic of the night, it was odd that nobody had approached her and formally welcomed her yet. Not that she's complaining. She can take care of herself. She didn't need support. She was a single mother, support was a foreign concept at this point. 

Her plan was simple. Speak every now and then in order to please her lawyer, keep to herself, and get sober. 

It wasn't Rey didn't want to get sober. She did. She would make a better employee, friend, and Mother to Nora. But she wanted to do it on her own terms. The fact that she was forced by a judge to put down the bottle made her blood boil. Wasn't the first rule of recovery that if the person doesn't do it on their own accord you're essentially setting them up for failure? This was a joke. She wanted to run out the gymnasium, leap into her car, drive home and tuck her babygirl into bed. She didn't need to be here. Not her. There were people out there much worse than her. It wasn't fair that she was stopped by an officer on her way home from the bar. It wasn't fair that she had to spend the night in jail to 'detox' instead of being with her daughter. None of this was fair. If anything this entire situation only urged her to drink more. 

"Sorry I'm late everyone."

The voice boomed off the walls of the gym, and everyone fell silent. Rey finally found the urge to tear her eyes away from the refreshment table to the facilitator who held the key to her freedom in their hands.

The first thing she noticed was the way he carried himself. Shoulders back. Head high. He knew how to command a room. The second was how bloody tall he was. He was at least six foot four ... maybe six foot five? He was rather intimidating actually. Dressed in black from head to toe and sporting a worn leather jacket wasn't the most inviting attire. Rey actually hoped it would be a woman running the group. She knew how to pluck their heartstrings better. He would be a bit more difficult. His keys twirled around his index finger. It was simple, but Rey saw it as being a bit cocky. She was rather good at reading people, and she had a feeling he got off on helping recovering addicts find their way back to the right path. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Let's take a seat and get things started."

People began to fill the empty folding chair, their conversations coming to a close. Rey settled into one as well, arms folded across her chest in an attempt to keep warm as well as sending a message that she wasn't planning on participating. 

His hands clapped together, a grin on his lips. He was far too eager about this. He definitely had a God complex.

"I'm Ben Solo. Former alcoholic and facilitator for this group, you all know that of course," laughter ensued. Rey didn't find it humorous.

"But, there's one of you who doesn't."

Rey's cheeks burned red as she felt his piercing gaze fall on her. So much for laying low. 

"We have a new member joining us, would you like to go ahead and introduce yourself and share with the group how long you have been sober for?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Rey suspected she would have to introduce herself, but she didn't know she would be kicking off the meeting. Her throat was dry. 

"I'm Rey Niima and-"

"Hi Rey," they all chimed at once. This place was truly living up to every cliche in the book.

"And I've been sober for four days."

God, it felt awful saying that out loud, especially to a group of complete strangers. She wanted to disappear. 

She didn't know what to expect next. Would they scold her? Offer her words of encouragement? The silence weighed heavy on her shoulders. Rey realized that Ben's grin was gone, and there was a look of empathy painted across his sculpted features. She noticed the way his fingers laced together while his lanky arms perched on his elbows, and the creases between his brows. "Congratulation." The group began to clap, nearly making Rey jump out of her skin. His lips then pulled into a smile that made warmth spread across the expanse of her body. 

"Four days is certainly something to be proud. Every time you resist the urge to drink is something to celebrate. We have to recognize our achievements daily in order to remain steadfast during recovery. It may seem like nothing, but in the grand scheme of things it's vitals to recognize our successes," he stops to heave out a sigh, "and our losses." A few members nodded in agreement, some of them adverting her gaze much like Rey was doing. "Anybody want to share something their proud of this week?" Ben sits back in his chair, arms folded over his broad chest. Just like her. 

The man sitting next to her raises his hand, clearing his throat. Ben simply nods in approval, giving him the floor. 

"Well, I got into a fight with my boyfriend a few days ago. It was something silly like leaving the dishes in the sink or forgetting to hang up the towels. But for some reason it really upset me. It could be stress at work at everything sorta boiling over. Before my sobriety I would of turned to drinking instead of talking about my feelings. Instead I took a breath and sat down to have a civil conversation with him."

"And how did it go?"

He grins, chest swelling with pride. "It went incredible. Poe was so proud of me for talking with him instead of getting shitfaced to avoid confrontation." 

Rey knew that all too well. She too hated confrontation or discussing the countless thoughts swirling inside of her mind. If she was drunk, she could just forget it all together. However, that wasn't the case. Those problems and feelings would be right outside her door when she sobered up. They didn't go away, no matter how intoxicated she was. As hard as she tried to fight it, Rey felt a sense of comfort knowing she wasn't the only person who used alcohol to avoid reality. 

"You did exactly what you were supposes to do Finn. You found a way to face things head on instead of using alcohol to cope. That's the goal. Everyone has a reason to drink. That's the cold hard truth of alcoholism. The key is finding ways to work around those urges in order to live a happy and healthy life." More nods of approval ensued across the group. Rey became fixated on the skin around her fingernails rather than giving Ben the benefit of the doubt. It was as if he was a preacher, reading his sermon upon the mountain top for all of his followers to faun over. There was nothing glamorous about recovery, surely they knew that right?

People continued to share the events that transpired over the week. They were all the same. A bump in the road followed by the urge to drink, fighting that urge and then craving validation the same way they craved the sweet burn of liquor. Her head ached. Perhaps it was the withdrawals, blinding florescent lights, or the woman across from her droning on about how she had the strength to say 'no' to a glass of champagne at her friends wedding. Her nails pressed into the heel of her hand leaving small half moon marks indented in their wake. With each second that passed, anxiety continued to bubble in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if Nora was asking Molly where her Mum ran off to and why she wasn't there to give her a bath and tuck her in bed. Her daughter didn't deserve half the shit she has gone through. Her Father leaving. The divorce. Now this. Jesus ... her life was a fucking wreck. 

After what felt like eons, the meeting finally came to a close. Rey was the first one to stand, fishing her keys from the pocket of her jeans so she could get the Hell out of there with no further interruptions. "Someone is in a hurry."

As luck would have it, the man sitting next to her decided to strike up a conversation at the *most* convenient time. Her mouth hung open, searching for an excuse as to why she was rushing off like the damn building was about to be engulfed in flames. "I ... well ..." 

He simply flashes her a smile, reaching out to give her forearm a soft graze. "I'm joking, I was the same way after my first time. I'm Finn." 

She offers him the smallest of smiles, hand still grasping her keys. "Rey." 

"Yeah, I got that." Finn was handsome. Charming even. He had a light about him that was hard to come by. "I won't keep you long," he shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, rocking back and forth on his heels. "I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk or vent to you can give me a call." Without any hesitation, as if he had been waiting for this moment all night, he pulled a business card from his pocket. His name was printed in a barley legible font along with a dashing photo in the upper right corner. Finn Storm, Realtor. Made sense. He was personable, most realtors are. 

"Thanks," Rey's voice was barley audible as she took the card from Finn, teeth gnawing on her bottom lip. "No problem, you get home safe." His hand found her forearm once again, the same warm smile pulling at the corner of his lips. Rey watched as he made his way over to the refreshment table, leaving her alone once again. Her fingertips traced over the card. It was a kind gesture, and she knew he meant well. But, that didn't stop her from ripping it in half. She didn't need anyone to talk or vent to. She had made it this long without confiding in anyone, there was no use in starting now. No matter what anyone else says. 

She sighed. The ripped pieces in her palm felt like two thirty pound weights. Finn had good intentions, he had been in her shoes before, she knew that. Making her way to the bin by the exit, she tossed the remains inside. A small part of her hoped Finn didn't see. Thankfully he appeared too distracted by the overwhelming amount of pastries. She reached for the handle, a mixture of emotions washing over her at once. Fear. Guilt. Anguish.

And something else ... she was being watched. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw none other than Ben standing a few feet away from her. There was no doubt he saw the interaction between Finn and her. She expected him to stop her from leaving so quickly. But he didn't. He just stood there. Rey couldn't decide what was worse, having him approach her or having him just stand there. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned back and opened the door wider, allowing it to slam behind her. 

The entire drive home she couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked at her. What was his problem? Was he disappointed that Rey didn't unload the weight she had been bearing during their first meeting? Why did she care so much what he thought? In effort to drown out her thoughts, she turned up her stereo and made her way home. Though, every time she glanced in her rear view mirror, she couldn't help but see those same eyes gazing back at her.

**Author's Note:**

> okay hi! this is my first ever fan fic so please be gentle with me as i learn the ropes! i will be updating as much as possible. your feedback is encouraged! thank you for coming with me on this journey, i hope you enjoy!


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